Dry County - Blackfoot

Ah, sitting in the back seat of a low

Ride automobile

We’re cruisin' on the outskirts

Lookin' for a two-legged deal

We got a Dry County, can’t find no spirits here

Dry County, run for your life out of fear

For things that you cannot find

Across a Dry County line

If the signs say liquor in the front baby

And poker in the rear

All you find is trouble

It’s best that you get out of here

You got a Dry County, can’t find no vices here

No, no, no, no, no

Dry County, run for your life out of fear

Run for your life out of fear

Can’t find no spirits nowhere

For things that you cannot find across

A Dry County line

Ah, L.A. to London, Buzzard Country, New Mexico

Detroit, Atlanta

There ain’t no place that’s too far to go To get away from this

Dry County, can’t find no vices here

Dry County, run for your life out of here

Ah, run baby, keep on runnin'

Ah, there ain’t no Busch nowhere

For things that you cannot find

Across a Dry County line